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.Vol.'.VI.::: lV,i1?.;v,! New Blooinliokl, I?aM Tuesday, November 5, 187S. TVo. 45.
18 PUDLISUl U IVERT TLB8DAT MORNINO, Dt ',
FRANK U0BTXUZ& & CO.,
At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Pa.
Belnir provided with Rtcam ToWer, and large
Cylinder and Job-lre, we are prepared
.. , to do all kinds of Job-l'rlutliiK in
good style and at Low ITIces.
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER.
IT was a goldeu day in October, and
earth, having docked hersolf in hor
many-hued robes, and gathered upon hor
"bosom "her wealth of autumn fruits, was
royal in her beauty. Her charms wore lost
however, upon the weary man who plodded
-along the dusty road that led to his farm
'house, for he scarcely raised his eyes, and
seemed filled with sad thoughts. They
were sad, and no wonder, for the little farm
upon which be had toiled so many years,
and whore lie had hoped to spend the rem
nant of his days, seemed likely to pass ont
of his hands.
The old trees in the orchard were heavy
with their rioh fruit, a bountiful supply of
corn was waiting to be garnered, and a
goodly array of pumpkins and squashes lay
ripening in the sunshine ; but all this bad
no charm now for John Humphrey, for
probably they would never be his. Twenty
years before ho bad purchased tho farm,
paying a trifle down, and had sot himself
diligently to work to reclaim its wasted
acres, aud make for his loved onos a borne
of plenty.
But somohow ha never seemed to pros
per like other men, never had "any luck,"
as be expressed it. His bay was always
sure togot wotjhls sheep and cattle died, and
scarcely a year passed that some untoward
event did not happen to discourage him.
It was slow work paying up for tho farm
but it was accomplished at last, and the
joyful event was celebrated by taking his
wife and children to visit a sister in a
neighboring town. But, alas I they paid
heavily in sorrow for their day of pleasure,
for the whole family caught a malignant
fever that was prevalent at the time. John
and his . wife were delirious during ' their
sickness, i and when reason returned aud
they were able to bear the news, it was
told them that their three little ones were
laid side by Bide in the old churchyard on
the bill. . .
This affliction had an opposite ofTuct up
on the parents ; while Iiuth Humphrey
bowed submissively beneath the rod that
smote her, and took home the sweet truth
to her boart, that whom the Lord lovoth he
cbasteneth, her husband was filled with
bard and bitter feelings. The cheery smile
with which he met bis other misfortunes
was now seldom seen upon his face, and
fyer after he walked under a heavy cloud
of sorrow. No other children came to
cheer the old homestead, and so the lonely
years passed on. ; .!'..',' , "
- One eold chilly day in autumn, a little
bare-footed girl, in, tattered garments,
peered with hungry dyes into the kitchen
door, which chanced to be open, and ask
ed in. a feeble voice for something to eat.
Mrs. Humphrey , was at once struck with
the beanty of the little pinched face and
her forlorn appearance.
' " Come In, dear," said Mrs. Humphrey,
and I will give yon something to eat."
"O my P said the child; "that's what
he called her."
' What do you mean by she ?"
" The beautiful lady that came to the
big house once,, leading a littlo girl just as
big as I. She called her dear.ever so many
times, and it sounded so uioe, , I wished
somebody would call me so, but no one
ver did bat you, and please, ma'am, I
love yon ?"
"Poor child I" said Mrs. Humphrey,
wiping away the tears that filled her eyes ;
where do you live ?' ' ; ' ' '
"I don't live anywhere now, since I ran
away from the big house. They didn't
give me enough to cat, and they whipped
me for everything see there I" - And the
child pointed to the blue marks on her slen
der arms, y i ?( ) ," t
" You poor little dear, how can, pooplo
be 'so cruol I ' Can you tell me your name?"
"I'm Madeline, that's all. Everybody
called me , Mad in the groat house, and 0
how I bated them for it I'' m i ' - i ' I
' ' Mrs. Humphrey placed aibbuiitiful supply
of food on the table, dnd the eagerness with
which the almost starved child devoured it
brought the tears again to her eyes.
When the little one bad finished eating,
Mrs.. Humphrey drew her to her side, and
gently smoothing her hair, asked her bow
she would like to live with her.
"O, may I?" And the hazol eyes grew
large and lustrous with sudden hope. ,
"Yes, if you wish. I had a little girl
once, but God took her home to live with
him. Perhaps he has sent you to take her
place."
' Madeline answered by ' nestling close to
that mother heart, and murmuring again
and again, " O, I love you so much !"
' Mi's. Humproy went to the drawer that
held tho garments her little one had worn,
and consecrating them to their new use
witli a baptism of tears, she arrayed Made
line in them, and taking ber by the hand,
went out to meet her husband, who was
approaching the house. Ills eyes looked
his astonishment, and Mrs. Humphrey told
hlra briefly all she knew about, tho child.
" I may keep her, may I not?" she ask
ed. " It will be such a comfort to hear a
child's voice in the house onco more."
"Yes, do as you like, Ituth; perhaps, as
you say, she will brighten up the old
house."
And thus it came to pass, that the little
waif that floated to the farmhouse on that
autumn day became known as sweet Made
line Humphrey, the fairest maid in all the
country round.
'Mrs. Humphrey, on the afternoon in
which our story opens, caught sight of her
husband as be slowly walked up the lane
leading to the house, and met him on the
threshold with an inquiring look.
"It was of no use," he said, sinking into
a chair. "Travels has already lent all the
money he has to spare, and there is no one
else to whom I can apply."'
" Is there no hope, then ?" said Mrs.
Humphrey, with pale lips. ;
"None that I know of now. Tho old
house must go, I suppose, for next week
the mortgage runs out."
Just thou Madolino came in from tho or
chard with a basket of rosy apples.
" O father !" she exclaimed, " I havo
been taking a survey of tho orchard, and I
never knew the trees hang so heavy with
fruit as they do this year. The old cellar
will hardly hold it all."
" It will never hold any mora fruit for us
my child."
! "Then you were not successful in raising
the money, father?"
" No, Madeline, what we have' all dread
ed is likely to come upon uB. It was al
ways my luck." i :
" Don't, John, don't call everything that
happens to us luck.?' ' ' '
" What else can I call it, Ruth ? I have
tried as hard as any one to get along, but
you know how everything has worked
against me." ' ' '
" But we had : the farm paid for once,
John. You wore successful at last, al
though it took a great many years. If you
had never signed your name to that note,
this present . trouble would not have come
upon us."
" Yqs, yos, I know it.' But who would
have believed that my best friend would
havq run away aud loft me to pay tho note?
He wouldn't have served any one else so.
I tell you it's my luck, and it's of no use to
fight against it. I might as well have sold
the farm then to pay the money, as to have
raised it by placing a mortgage upon it. I
might have known I never could pay it. I
depended upon the sale of the hay last sum
mer to pay a certain amount, but you know
there was hardly a ton that went into tho
barn in good condition."
"Well, John, God's ways are notour
ways, and though it has sometimes looked
dark enough, and does now, iu fact, yet I
never saw the time I couldn't trust him."
There was ' such a serene look of peace
and calm trust iu the face of his wife as
she said this,.' that John Humphrey mar
velled greatly. , ' '
1 "How you can take everything, good or
bad, that comes to us in the way you do, is
past my finding out," be said, as bo took
the weekly paper that had come in bis ab
sence aud tried to become interested in its
contents, i i ; , ... ,
Madeline seated herself by the window,
aud gased sadly out upon the , familiar
soenos ' which, she feared they must leave
for a strange homo. The silenoe of . the
old kitchen was at length broken by a
knock upon the outer door. , It was open
ed by Mrs. Humphrey,, wbo ushered in a
young man named Ernest Beaton. ; An an
gry iluph overspread the face .of Madeline,
but she managed to greet the visitor with a
show of oordiality.
" "I have heard," Bald he, addressing Mr.
Humphrey, " that you wished to borrow a
certain sum of Mr. Travers to-day." . . ,
. " I did, sir, but he wasunable to accom
modate me."
" I have called to say I have about that
amount by me, which I wish to invest, and
will loan it to you for one year.".
" You are very kind, sir," said . Mr.
Humphrey, the light of a great joy kind
ling iu bis eyes. "On what terms do you
propose to make me this loan ?" ,
; " Simply this: . that with the money 1
shall furnish you shall cancel the present
mortgago upon your place, and give me a
new mortgage for one year from date."
"I will accept your kind offor, Mr. Sea
ton, and although it looks so dark now,
something to my advantage may happen
before the time expiree, and tho old place
bo free again."
" Very well, I am glad I could accom
modate you, and if you plcaso, I will moot
you at Squire Preble's this evening and
have the papers made out."
" Won't you stop to tea ?" urged Mrs.
Humphrey. "I will have it ready in a
very few moments."
" No, I thank yon, I am in something of
a hurry. Isn't there a nearer path to town
through your woods than by the road ?"
"Yes sir, and Madeline will j show you
the way, for it is somewhat difficult to
find."
Madeline took her hat from its accus
tomed nail, aud with ill-concealed reluc
tance prepared to obey her father's wish.
Ever siuce the Seatons, a proud English
family, had moved into town, Ernest had
been persistent in forcing his attontions
upon Madeline. She thoroughly disliked
him for his snobbish ways and the mean
ness of his genoral character. She would
rather have bad her father indebted to any
one else than to him for pecuniary aid.
They walked on in silence a few steps, but
as they entored the wood Beaton strove to
draw Madeline into conversation.
" This is the way," she said, pointing to
a well-defined bridle-path that opened to
the left; "you have only to go straight for
ward through the woods, and you will find
the distance much shorter to the towni"
' "Thank you, Madeline ; and now lotus
sit on this mossy seat and rest a few mo
ments." " I am not fatigued, aud I thought you
were in a hurry, Mr. Beaton."
' "lam never in too much of a hurry to
talk to you, Madeline, when I can get an
opportunity. I am going to Europe in a
few weeks, to be absent some months, and
before I go I must bear my fate from your
lips. You have evaded the question and
fought shy of mo long enough. Madeline,
you kuow how madly I love you, and I
must know whether you accept that love
or not." i
" Mr. Beaton, 1 had hoped to have been
spared this avowa from you ; my manner
towards you must have betrayed tbe state
of my feelings, and I cannot return the love
you profess for me." . i .;.;
Beaton sprang to bis feet, while his faos
became livid with rage. . ' '
" Madeline Humphrey," he hissed, "who
are you, that you should spurn me in this
manner? You, a foundling, and tbe in.
mate of a poorhouse in your childhood I
The blood of one of the best families of
England flows in "my veins, and, I know
of a score of girls who would considor
an alliance with me as the height of their
ambition."' i
"Then I advise you to bestow your pre
cious self upon some one of this score with
out any delay. I have never thought you
really loved me, and now this taunt with
regard to tbe circumstances of my early
life confirms my belief beyond a doubt.
This matter must be considered as settled
between us forever.", .
"Not so fast, my lady. One year from
to-day a mortgage which I shall hold upon
your father's farm will expire. If you
marry mo, I shall never demaud a cent; but
if you do not, I shall demand of Mr. Hum
phrey the uttermost farthing. You know
as well as I do what prospect there Is of his
paying It."
The baseness of Beaton's motive in aid
ing her father in his extremity flashed upon
Madeline In an instant, and the indignant
blood mounted to her face. .
"Heave you," said Beaton, ."and re
member my . conditions. They must be
complied with or you take the consequen
ces." .,:
With a haughty stride Beaton disap
peared down the bridle-path, and Madeline
turned with a heavy heart towards the
farmhouse.
Mr. Humphrey wwit to the village soon
after tea, to keep his appointment with
Beaton, and Mrs. Humphrey, who was fa
tigued with the cares of the day, retired
soon after, so Madeline was loft .alone in the
old kitchen. As the time sped on she glan
ced at the tall clock In the corner, and
thought to herself: '
' "That dreadful mortgage, I suppose, is
made out by this time, and there is no help
for it now. It only remains for me, single
handed and alone, to do what I can to
thwart his villiany."
She took up the newspaper, and as she
glanced over its columns, hor eyes rested
upon this item among tho " Wants."
" Wanted. An assistant teacher for the
English branches in the Lakemdo Seminary.
Candidates will be examined at the Institu
tion on the 20th inst."
" O," thought Madeline, " if I could only
get that situation it would relieve us from
all difficulty 1" '
The more she thought of it the more de
termined she was to try. She had always
been the smartest scholar in the village
school, and had takon the first rank during
the half year she bad been permitted to at
tend the academy. It was only the English
branches she would be required to teach,
and she felt competent to do that. Hor
mind was mado up before she sought ber
pillow, and the divine wisdom asked to aid
in the new course she had marked out.
Madeline spent all her spare time in
study during the noxt week, and then sent
for her friend Clara Lane to come and pass
the night with her.
" Well, I declare, "exclaimed Clara, as she
entered Madeline's chamber, " what an ar
ray of school books you have upou your
table I Do you intend to set up a private
school here?"
" Not exactly, Clara, though I hope to
have a school somewhere."
" What on earth do you mean, Madeline
Humphrey ? Every district in town is al
ready supplied with a teacher for the
winter term, so thero is no chance for you
here." : ,
" There may be in another place, though,
for you are aware that Irvington is only a
very small cornor of tho world. In fact, I
mean to apply for the situation offered in
that advertisement," said Madeline, band
ing the paper to Clara, " and I want some
of your help," she added.
." Dear me, Madeline I I don't see how I
can help you, but If there Is anything I can
do, I am willing to try."
"Then, Clara, please show the sincerity
of your offer by giving mo a thorough ex
amination in these branches. I want you
to ask mo tbe hardost questions you can
find, and if I pass the ordeal with tolerable
credit, I Bball venture to become a candi
date at Lakeside next week."
" I'll do the best I can, Madeline, so let
us proceed to business. I'll warrant you'll
get examined to your heart's content."
The girls sat up till the old clock in the
kitchen struck eleven, and then Clara clos
ed tho book, exolaimlng:
" There, I haven't the slightest doubtjbut
what you will not only pass a triumphant
examinatiou,but innihilate every other can
didate who presents herself ! But what
in tbe world has put this idea of teaching
into your head just now?"
" O, several things. One is, I want to
help father; you know he has rather a hard
time to get along, and as he took me, a for
lorn and friendless ohild, it is no more than
right, now that I have grown up, that I
should strive to make him some return. I
haven't spoken of my plan yet, but I shall
to-morrow; and I think' they will approve
of it, although I know they will be lone
some without mo the cohilng winter."
' Madeline waited the next day till the
morning housework was done, and her
father had come in to rest him after doing
bis chores at the barn, ' before she spoke
of her project.
Well, I never !" said Mrs. Humphrey,
dropping ber knitting work; "to think of
you wanting to go away off to that out-of-
Ltho-way place to teach ! Why, child, I
dou't hope you think wo. begrudge; you a
living here at home I"
"Ah, Madeline knows better thau that,"
said Mr. Humphrey. " While we have a
roof over our heads or a crust of bread left
she shall share it with us. Bhe has beard
us say that a great many times."
"I know it, fathor," replied Madeline.
"I am aware I hold a daughter's place in
both of your hearts, and that is why I
want to act a daughter's part, and by do
ing something for myself, now that I am
able, help you along a little. Lakeside
is only fifty miles from here, and as 'there
is a stage ride of only six miles at the end
of this route, I can visit home whenever
there is a vacation. ' I don't know as I can
obtain the situation, but if I can, are you
willing I should take' it for a year, at
least?". ', t ,., '.. '. 'i . I,... .
. " If you have set your heart so, much
upon it, child, I don't know' as I have any
objection; what do you say, mother?", said
Mr. Humphrey addiesslnghiswifo,
" Well she might as well go, perhaps. It
will be a change of scene, if nothing more;
and I don't know as we ought to keep her
shut up in the old farmhouse all her life,
even if we could." ; .
Bo it was settled that Madoliuo was to
go the next week to LakeBide. She had
no money to spend In unnecessary travel,
and everything was prepared so that in case
she was successful lu obtaining tho situa
tion, her trunk could be sent on to ber.
Clara Lane was the only one of the villa
gers entrusted with the secret of ber going,
and so when the old yellow stagecoach '
drove up to John Humphrey's door one
morning, and Madeline was seen to enter
it, there was a great speculation as to
where she could be going, and what her
business in that unknown region could
possibly be.
When Madeline had fairly lost sight of
the last familiar house, she began to real
ize what a venturesome thing she bad un
dertaken. No doubt there would be a
score of experienced teachers for her to
compote with, while she bad only taught
one terra in a district school.
Thero had been no rain for some time,
and the roads were very dusty, so she was
glad to tie on the thick brown veil she had
brought for that purpose. It was well she
did, for at the first place at which the stage
stopped, who should got into it but Ernest
Beaton ? He was bound to the next rail
road station, from which he was to take tbe
cars en route for New York, and there em
bark on the steamer for England. A friend
was with him, and the two, who had taken
something to solace themselves at the last
tavern, grew very talkative.
" How long do you Intend to remain
abroad, Beaton?" asked Frank Graves.
" O, five or six months, perhaps. Our
old family estate needs to be looked - after,
you know, for I don't mean to settle in this
miserable repebulican country. We only
came over here on account of father's health,
and he has received no benefit from the
change, for the doctor says he has an In
curable disease that may carry him off at
any time. It is quite certain he can never
return to England again, and in the event
of his death, as the eldest son, I shall in
herit Beaton Hall."
" I suppose you have some fair lady over
the water, who is destined to reigu mis
tress of tho lordly mansion ?"..,
" There are plenty who would bo glad to
secure that position, but, as it happens the
lady whom I have selected is on this sido of
the water. America has some institutions
which I like, and among them are tho
pretty girls. The one I have reference to
is a perfect Hebe."
" How long since your engagement to
this peerless beauty transpired ?"
"O, there isn't a real engagement; indeed
she fights shy and will have none of mo at
present, but I havo laid a very clever trap
to catch the beauty, and I haven't tbe
slightest doubt abut tbe result."
Madeline's cheek glowed with indigna
tion, and she bit her Hps till they nearly
bled. Tbe sublime impudence of the Eng
lish snob was something wonderful, and
she was more determined than ever to do
feat his plans. The money should be ready
for bim on the day that mortgage expired
if it were within the bounds of possibility.
Bhe was glad when the two fi lends were set
down at their destined station, and Bhe had
the opportunity of removing ber veil and
breathing a little fresh air again.
A half hour's ride brought ber to the
railroad station, and she was soon speeding
on as fast as steam could carry her to Lake
side. Tbe cars were very full, and she had
some difficulty in finding a seat. Bhe bad
never traveled enough in her life to become
hardened to the discomfort of others, and
so when at the next station a fat old lady,
with a carpet-bag, two bandboxes and an
umbrella, wandored up and down the car
looking in vain foi a seat, she rose imme
diately and offered hers. A gentleman,
who had previously done the samo thing
for a crippled fellow-passengur, gave Mad
eline a nod of sympathy as they each strove
to balance themselves on tbe arm of a car
seat.
" There Is to be a convention, or something
of the sort, I hear, at a station about five
miles further on, aud I presume so many
will leave tho cars at that place we shall
theri bo able to find a seat," remarked the
gentlemau, 1 "
" O dear," spoke up tho old lady, " I
hope, if so many folks get off before w get
to Lakeside, thero wont he any of 'eu take
my things by mistake. My best bonnet is
in that big baudbox, and tny caps, ool
lars and slcii things are in tho t'other,and I
wouldn't lose 'onj for nothlu' I .1 told mv
darter Sarah Maria that I didn't suppose I
should have moie'n half of my budgets
when I got home. Are any of you folks
going clear to Lakeside ?"
CONTINUED OS SEOONU P10S. .